


The Incredibly Convoluted and Also Epic Love Story Of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy

by Udonwnaknow1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Boys In Love, But also adorable, Canon Compliant, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Fluff, Feel-good, Feelings and stuff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Harry is a Little Shit, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, a second of, after that, but he loves draco, but there is almost, but this is fluff, i really love this fic, i think its humor, my take on a bookshop au, or at least, theres almost a plot, theres like - Freeform, this is rated teen, until after school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udonwnaknow1/pseuds/Udonwnaknow1
Summary: Or:How Two Idiots Fell In Love and Also Into an Alternate Universe





	The Incredibly Convoluted and Also Epic Love Story Of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy

It went like this.

One moment Harry was living his life, reveling in the joy of having a day off work, free to lounge about in his pajamas while drinking his beloved coffee when two fully grown men tumbled out of thin air, caught in what absolutely looked like a match to the death. 

Harry blinked twice, his higher brain functions still not yet awake enough to process what was happening in front of him, and really, were you ever awake enough to process magical appearing wrestlers just showing up mid air in your living space?

Harry did not think so.

On the other hand, the impossible men had now rolled themselves far too close to Harry’s TV and if they broke the damn thing, Harry would kill them. He knew that in his soul. 

With a nod of encouragement to himself and a mental ‘you can do it, don’t get killed’ Harry stepped forward and cleared his throat, receiving a flying kick to the thigh for his troubles. 

The sound of his sharp yelp and the subsequent thump his body made as it hit the ground seemed to snap the interlopers from their wrestling match and the two turned, still locked together with arms wrapped around sides and one with his fist keeping a tight hold in the others hair.

“The fuck are we? The fuck are you?” 

Harry was a bit offended, HE wasn’t the one that had just come tumbling into someone else’s home, trashing the place as he went.

He scoffed, hoping the total amount of unpleasant things he was feeling came out in his voice. “The fuck are you?” 

The one that had asked the question looked unreasonably offended and tugged on his companions’ sleeve, “Oi, Potty, where are we?”

 

“How the hell should I know Draco? We both fell through the damn thing, well actually,” and here the other who was not named Draco snarled a bit and gave the hand still holding onto the others hair a little shake. “One of us was pushed, wasn’t he? You little shit! We’re not kids anymore dumbass, what were you thinking?!”

The one named Draco pouted and ‘what the hell’ thought Harry ‘grown men shouldn’t be able to pout quite so efficiently’ and started to slowly unwind his arms from the other, giving his head a little shake and huffing when he realized the grip on his hair was replaced for one on his bicep.

The other man pulled himself to his feet, dragging his companion along with him, and muttering to himself as he did. 

“You better hope we’re still in England Draco or I swear, I will keep you in handcuffs till we find a way home”-He shook the man still in his hold a bit for emphases-“and then when we do get home, because I am damn well going to find a way, I am going to do everything in my power to have you placed under a 24 hour watch. You are a danger to yourself and the world through sheer stupidity alone.”

This Draco and this man seemed to know each other well. They were perhaps, not on the best of terms but there seemed to be a certain fondness creeping into the others tone as he chastised his partner and it was a startling contrast to the attempted murder the both of them had just been trying to carry out. 

The whiplash alone was giving Harry a headache.

Harry shifted on the floor, letting out a curse as the forming bruise on his thigh pulsed, causing both men to look up and straight at him. Not-Draco gave him a startled look, as if he had forgotten that Harry was there to begin with, which was rather rude in Harry’s opinion. 

He lived here after all.

Draco tugged on his captors’ sleeve again, his upper lip curling as his eyes lit on the TV, and very loudly whispered “Look, he’s a muggle.”

Now, Harry wasn’t too sure what a muggle was supposed to be but judging from the tone it was said in he could only assume it wasn’t anything pleasant and he added this new infringement to the growing list of cons he had against his new house guests. 

The one that wasn’t Draco rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the one that was, turning his head back to Harry and taking a step forward.

“Hi, I’m terribly sorry about dropping in like this, I’m sure your confused. Me and my friend,” spoken in a tone that made it clear this was rather untrue, “will be out of your hair as soon as possible. If I could impose on you just a bit more, would you be able to tell me where we are?”

Well, Harry mused, at least this house crasher had manners.

Harry’s mind fired words out of his mouth before he had the chance to rein them in. “How in the fuck did you come falling out of the middle of my living room? And who the hell are you people? And is that one as big an ass as I think he is, or does he only come off like that to people who don’t know him?” 

The other guy laughed, stepping forward into the lighter part of the room, the only bit of the space that wasn’t shrouded in shadow because of Harry’s refusal to open a window shade.

It was his day off; the sun could go fuck itself.

Draco, the little shit that Harry was pretty sure he was, scowled and tried to dig his heels in, loudly sputtering nonsense about “not wanting the muggle to infect him.” His companion did not look amused.

A hand was held out to him and training in societal norms had him grasping it to shake before common sense and ‘stranger danger’ had a chance to kick in. Harry looked up, resigned to his fate as ‘murdered apartment dweller that forgot he had access to a phone and could have called the police at any time’ and felt his heart skip a beat.

This fucking home intruder was fucking himself. Or his long lost, exactly identical twin brother with super magic powers. 

What the fuck?

 

 

 

 

 

Harry stared at the man, his grasp on Draco tightening to the point of painful, something the blond had no issue sharing with him in the very loudest voice he could muster.

“Potty! Your hurting me you overgrown blast ended skrewt!” Draco pulled on his arm, scowling more when he was ignored. Talk about adding insult to injury.

“Potter! Harry!”

Two heads turned to him and despite his pride, Draco felt himself pull back a bit into Harry’s side.

Both heads then turned back to each other and hey, wait a minute.

The screech, when it came, nearly deafened the other two men. “Holy shit, there cannot be two Potter’s, I won’t be able to take it. Potter!” Draco moved himself in front of Harry as best he could while the man still had a grip on his arm, stuck his pointer finger into Harry’s face, waggling it as he spoke. “Harry, make it stop. This is unacceptable, I refuse to be in a place where there are more than one of you. What if there is a Weasel here or another know-it-all Granger.” The possibility was almost too much to bear. 

“Your name is Harry too?”

Draco turned to glare at the muggle, he was talking right now! Interrupting is rude, this man would know that if he had any kind of class.

Harry nodded slowly, his mind running through any and all possibilities, searching for a feasible explanation for his and Draco’s current situation. Or well, not the whole situation. Harry was pretty sure he knew how they had gotten here, that wasn’t too much of a mystery. The real question was why where they here, in this what? Alternate realty maybe, with what Harry was pretty sure was a muggle version of himself. 

Gripping Draco tighter as he felt the idiot squirming Harry nodded, “I am, Harry James Potter to be exact. And you?”

The other Harry’s eyes widened, and he took a shuffling step back, more out if shock than anything else. “Yah, dude, what the hell?”

Harry felt the last of his hope fall through the bottom of his stomach like a pile of tumbling boulders.

They were so, so, very fucked.

 

 

“So, let me get this straight, you two are wizards?” Harry nodded in confirmation and the other Harry continued, “And you fell through a portal, you were pushed through a portal,” he corrected himself when he saw Harry’s mouth start to open, “that most people think is actually a death doorway so most of your friends probably think your dead and no one will come looking for you. Do I have all that straight so far?”

Harry nodded again.

“You both went to school together and you hate each other.” OG-Harry looked mildly dubious as he took in the loud blond peacefully fast asleep, curled up in the others lap with one hand fisted in his seat’s shirt front.

His seat’s lip twitched but he nodded for Harry to continue.

“And now you’re stuck here for an imperceptible amount of time with no place to live, no money and no proof you exist.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement and gave the other Harry his best, most charming smile. The other Harry didn’t look impressed.

“And you’d like to stay here, in my one bedroom flat while you look for a way home.” It wasn’t formatted as a question because Harry was 100% sure it wasn’t one and he did his best to keep the millionth sigh of the day from escaping his mouth.

He could do this, he was awesome and amazing, and he could put up with crazy shit.

“On three conditions. One, you prove to me that you’re not talking shit because other than your appearing act, I’ve yet to see any actual evidence that magic is a thing and you’re not yanking my chain. Two, you keep that loud little opinionated fucker away from me because I have this feeling that he inspires murder in people and I’m too pretty for jail and three. Don’t fucking kill me in my sleep, it’ll piss me off.”

Harry nodded one more and ignored the fact that he was running his finger through Draco’s hair, it was soft ok, lifting his free hand up and out into a handshake position. “Deal.” 

 

 

 

The kettle was shrieking as the steam came pouring out and it was to fucking early to deal with this shit. Harry stumbled his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, just in time to hear the tail end of a conversation.

“When it makes that nose Draco, take it off the flame.” This was followed by a disgruntled sniff and petulant, “What if I get burned Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes, sure that his wizard counterpart was doing the same. They may have just met but even he couldn’t deny the fact that there were some similarities between them. Except for the fact that his visitor seemed to have a strange well of patience for the whiny brat that he had come with. Something that Harry thought was probably more a sign that the other Harry has been worn down by the years of non-stop bullshit than anything else.

Harry took a seat, smiling at other Harry as a plate was placed in front of him. The new other-Harry could cook and that was one big thing that they did not have in common, Harry was more likely to burn down the fucking flat then make an edible breakfast. 

Draco glared at him from his spot across the table and Harry just gave him his best ‘you’re a fucking dumbass’ look before starting on his breakfast. Fuck, homemade food was good.

 

“Draco and me are going to head out today, see if there’s any kind of magic world we can find. Other people have fallen through the veil before, so it stands to reason that some of them might have washed up here.”

Harry nodded at him with a bit of egg dangling off his lip, “Do you need any directions?” 

“Eh, we should be fine, thanks. From what I’ve been able to see most of the maps seem to be the same. I think we’ll be able to get around all right.”

Draco’s pale hand suddenly shot up and both Harrys ducked as bits of his breakfast went flying of the end of his fork. “Potter, Potter! How are we getting around? This heathen”-he pointed at Harry- “doesn’t even know what a floo is.”

Draco’s face turned paler than it already was.

“Potter, Harry. We can’t take an auto-car, I’ve seen those! They’re death traps Harry, if we get in one we’ll die, I know it!”

 

Well, Harry thought, one the one hand this was kinda hilarious, watching a full-grown man freak out over getting in a car, on the other, with the way he was hanging onto the other Harry’s arm looking about a second away from bursting into tears, it was kinda sad. But, and Harry did feel just a tiny bit guilty about this, it was still mostly just hilarious.

 

 

 

 

Draco’s hand was nearly one with the seatbelt, what with how tight he was holding it, his face scrunched up tight while he continued looking at his surroundings, sure that no matter what Harry had said, they were about to die. He let out little sounds of surprise every time they drove over a bump or pothole and Harry would worry more if he didn’t know the little shit was just doing it for attention. Also, Draco had fuckin pushed him through the damn veil and it was only his sense of duty that was keeping him from strangling the drama queen.

There was also his tiny, tiny, ill-advised crush that he had worked so hard to kill but it was still hanging on like a kitten on one of those damn inspirational posters. 

It was just, Harry knew Draco now. Worked with him, had saved his life more than once, had even lived with him in one dorm for their eighth year at Hogwarts and he knew him now. 

Knew how Draco hated the cold and would always wear these monstrous fuzzy slippers all around the common room, about how Draco hated the taste of coffee but loved caffeine, Harry had watched him pour so much sugar into his coffee every morning that and he was sure it would have given a muggle diabetes by thirty.

He knew how Draco would have nightmares of the war, just like they all did. All the survivors. But Draco felt like he didn’t deserve to share in their middle-of-the-night group talks because he had been on the wrong side. He’s seen him he sat curled up in his own bed in the very corner of the room, out of sight out if mind and all that, with his blanket pulled tight around himself rocking slowly back and forth in the oldest of self-soothing moves.

Harry had seen so much more in Draco than he had wanted to admit could exist and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that there was so much more hidden inside.

Plus, the whiny brat was hot and cute as fuck and Harry was only fucking human. And he had a weakness for cute. And hot.

 

 

 

“No lad, there has never been a pub here, if you’re looking for a good middle-of-the-day drink you can take yourself and your fellow round the block. There’s a nice little place there that the young folk seem to like.”

 

Harry tipped his head in thanks and wished the man a good day, reestablishing his hold on ‘his fellow’ since the one thing he had leaned today was that Draco had a tendency to wander off. Harry was about a second from getting him a leash.

He felt Draco pull at him and hummed in answer. The pain better not want to go look at furniture again, honestly. He didn’t even have a place to put it. 

 

“Potter let’s go eat, I’m hungry.”

Come to think of it, he was hungry too, their search was proving far more difficult than Harry had been hoping and a little food might life both their spirits.

Harry tugged Draco’s arm in a playful imitation of the way the other had gotten his attention and pointed to the coffee shop up ahead, “There seem ok?”

Draco shrugged, honestly, he felt so out of place. Everyone here sounded right but everything else was so foreign, he wasn’t used to much nothing happening. Where were the vendors and the shouting, the colors and movement that he was so used to? Where were birds and the talking signs advertising the stores wares, where was the life? Everything here felts so dull, so drab, the world looked like it was painted in gray and Draco hated it. He had never truly been out of the magical word, not for more than a quick walk when all other modes of transportation failed and as he looked around himself, at the bland buildings and gray clouds, Draco had felt the absence of magic like a lost limb.

 

 

 

The coffee burned as it went down Harry’s throat, the liquid bitter and exactly what he needed to spur his second wind, he looked over to Draco as the blond absentmindedly poked at his half-eaten sandwich. He has enjoyed watching him drink his first ever muggle made coffee, the thing had had enough syrup in it to down a rhino, but his companion had looked like he had reached nirvana.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Draco kept poking his sandwich.

Harry’s lip turned down and he cleared his throat to try again. “Draco, what'chu thinking ‘bout?” 

Draco looked up startled and bit his lip, then releasing it and taking a deep breath.

“I have something to tell you Potter and I need you to listen very close because I’m only going to say it once. Harry nodded his head sharply to show that he was indeed listening, and Draco continued. “I’m…… sorry. That I pushed you through the veil.”

Harry felt the urge to make a joke come bubbling to the forefront of his brain, but he resolutely shoved it back. This was a big deal for Draco, apologizing. In the years Harry had known him, he had only heard Draco sincerely admit to wrongdoing twice. Once to friend over something in school and once at his trial. This was important, and Draco deserved better.

“I, I didn’t mean to push you, I tripped, and you were the first solid thing I fell against, but I still did it and I’m sorry.” Draco’s breath hitched and Harry’s eye narrowed, taking in the slight shake of the other’s shoulders and the flush rapidly rising on Draco’s cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry Harry, I could have killed you! All because my balance is for shit!”

There were a couple stray tears starting to roll their way down now and Harry felt himself fall into a mild panic; give him oversized spiders over tears any day. Harry didn’t know what to do around tears, always flashing back into the mindset of a prepubescent boy, all awkward and out of place and he worked to keep the discomfort off his face, raising a hand and shoving it over the table to pat stiffly at Draco’s shoulder. ‘Why’, Harry wondered, ‘am I such a waste of life.’

To his credit, Draco seemed a bit mollified at the action and when Harry dared to look him in the face again, he was met with a small smile. He directed his hand to pat one more time before drawing it back and opening his own mouth. “Thank you, for saying that, and I’m sorry I dragged you with me, when you knocked into me you were the first solid I grabbed, and it does make me feel better to know that you weren’t actually trying to kill me because”-Harry stopped and flicked his eye’s toward Draco’s-“I had thought that we were maybe friends now?”

Draco’s smile could have powered a city block. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The TV was blaring when Harry made his way back into his apartment after work, he had offered his spare key to the wizards, and wasn’t that itself a mind fuck, but his doppelganger had just smiled and said that they didn’t need it. He hung his bag up on the hook by the door and tossed his keys onto the little table, looking round to see who was watching with the volume so loud. His eyes landed in Draco, sitting a foot in front of the screen with his eyes opened as wide as they could go and his mouth hanging wide. Aesthetically, Harry reasoned, the man was stunning, all pale skin and silky blond hair, and he made a sweet picture, so enamored with the TV screen. 

Harry could even, at this moment, go so far as to say that Draco looked adorable which was why he was so grateful that the man chose that moment to notice him staring.

Draco startled, nearly toppling in his hast to move back and away from the other Harry, the wrong one. The one that looked at him like wasn’t worth the air it took for him to breath and called out for his Harry, loudly. “Potter! The muggle is looking at me. Potter!”

The two stared each other down, neither willing to break away from the intense staring contest that had started, and Draco squeaked when he felt someone put their hand on his head and give it a stroke. 

“We spoke about this, we don’t refer to people whose houses we are staying at as muggles, it’s rude. Harry has a name.”

Draco twisted his head out from under Harry hand and looked at him, lips pursed for a second, “Your name is Harry, if I call both of you the same thing it’ll get confusing.”

“Hold up,” Harry interjected, “when you got here you didn’t call him Harry and that was just two days ago, why can’t you keep calling him that and just call me Harry?”

“Because,” Draco sighed out with a roll of his eyes, “I don’t want to and you haven’t done anything to prove to me that I should call you by your first name, in fact,” and here Draco looked a bit too excited and both Harry’s felt themselves brace, “I’ll call you Potter and my Harry, Harry and it all work out perfectly.”

He finished his statement with a satisfied look and Harry felt a bit of warmth flit through his stomach and he couldn’t stop himself from stroking Draco’s head one more time and saying, under his breath “Your Harry it is.”

 

 

 

The three of them were back on the couch in what was rapidly becoming everyone’s assigned seats and Harry wondered, while looking at his house guests, what their history was. There was too much affection between the two for them to be enemies, too much soft in both their eyes. Harry was more observant than he was often credited with and he had caught the little smiles and blushes that rose on Draco face whenever he had the other Harry’s attention, the way Draco would almost subconsciously curl or move closer to the other whenever he was around. And Harry, the other one, well, there was no one else when Draco was around, the blond always had his complete and undivided attention and he never seemed to notice. 

The two orbited around each other like their own complete fucking solar system and Harry was irritated with himself for feeling a little jealous.

It had become customary for the group to gather at the end of the day to discuss how the hunt for any kind of magical community was going and in the two weeks that the visitors had been there, it hadn’t been going well. 

Magic-Harry reasoned that if they could still use magic than magic must exist, but Draco countered with the explanation that magic was energy and that energy came from within, so it would stand that as long as they were so was magic.

Harry had started speaking about getting a job and a place for himself and Draco and the note of defeat in his voice had sparked a screaming match between the two, one that Draco had finished with a soft, “In all the years I have known you, you have never given up. Never. Not even when you died, you still came back and kicked ass. I can’t believe your choosing to start now.” and the other Harry had looked so guilty that Harry felt it with him. He had wanted to ask about the dying thing to, but he could read a room.

This night, however, was quiet and calm, the window open a bit, letting in a cool breeze and the TV on and set to a low volume. Ever since discovering the TV, Draco had been obsessed, he kept adamantly repeating that it was the closest to real magic that he had come across since landing in this terrible place and would insist on it being on at all times. Harry wept for his electricity bill but somewhere deep down, so far down that he refused to acknowledge it, he was growing a soft spot for the other, so he allowed it, and he wept.

The topic that night was about something that both wizards had been thinking of for a bit now, a way to possibly attract the attention of a magic user since trying to sniff them out was proving futile. Draco was deep in the middle of an explanation on magic theory and both Harrys had zoned out, catching only bits of his monologue, “and should that work it stands that a person with a magic core, or person receptive to magic itself could feel it, the gene could be buried so deep that people aren’t even aware they have it in the first place! In fact, I bet that there are people here with the potential to”- 

Harry jolted as someone poked his face, harder than he thought was strictly necessary, and he turned his annoyed gaze to Draco who was leaning over him so close that he was practically in his lap. 

“Are you even listening to me?”

Harry scrunched his nose and shook his head, muttering out a soft “No, sorry. Kind of zoned out for a bit there. But from what I did hear, I think you’re on to something.”

Draco shifted back onto his seat, one leg folding under the other while his free leg bounced, “I know I’m onto something, that wasn’t the question. What I want to know is what we can do to create something that is so powerful that it will attract anyone close with magic to it.” Draco pushed some hair behind one air and started bouncing his leg harder, jostling Harry’s seat and Harry flicked his eye’s up and over to the other Harry for a second, just catching his eye.

The other Harry was looking at him like he was a puzzle and it was his job to figure him out, it made Harry a little uncomfortable and he tuned back into the rambling happening at his side.

“So, back at home there was so much magical energy happening all the time that no one would ever really notice more being added, mot unless it was a crazy big spell. But here, in this”- nose tilt and sniff- “place there is no magic being thrown around, or at least not enough for anyone to take notice. I still think we should do something big though, maybe a potion spell combo or”- and here Draco excitedly jumped, nearly tossing himself of the couch in his exuberance and only being saved from smashing his face in by Harry’s grip on the front of his shirt, bless those seeker reflexes. “We could do a ritual!”

Harry pulled him till he was mostly stable on the couch and took a breath in thought, “OK, but, what kind of ritual, because I’m not slicing of limbs or summoning gods, not even to get back home.”

“The fuck?”

Harry looked up and opened his mouth, but Draco interrupted him, turning his head between both Harrys and raising his voice to make certain that they both were paying him the utmost attention. “We”- sharp gesture circling to all of them, in case there had been any confusion as to who he meant by we – “will not be cutting of any limbs. Or raising any dead. But we will definitely not be cutting of limbs, I mean, have you seen my limbs? What fool would cut of such lovely appendages. Dumbasses.”

 

 

Gathering the items for a magic ritual turned out to be both easier and harder than anticipated, plants and herbs where easy to track down but where in this muggle, magicless world where they supposed to find dragon scales? And so the next few days went by filled with failed attempts to cobble together a potion and spell that could be made with only muggle available ingredients and Harry thanked all that was holy that Draco was a bit of a potion prodigy, in truth, Draco was a sight bit smarter than Harry had ever really given him credit for and this point was proven to him numerous times over all their failed attempts. 

Draco seemed to thrive over the trying, the experimenting, the little wrinkle between his eyebrows deepening as he focused his entire concentration on the calculation he was scribbling, sticking the top part of his pen into his mouth and chewing on it as he tried to recall all the various properties of any given ingredient. Harry was, without reserve of any kind, completely and utterly smitten.

The two had also taken to going out on evening walks, both to get out of the small apartment and as a way to connect and hash out new ideas and theories with nothing to distract them. 

With summer quickly turning into fall the evening where well on their way to chilly and while their host had been incredibly kind in his allowance of them invading his space for what could very well be an incredibly long time the other Harry was not an endless pot of money and both Harry and Draco had come to the conclusion that yes, it was time to find a job, something that was easier said than done when you technically did not exist. But they weren’t wizards for nothing and that was how both of them found themselves standing in front of a little bookstore early Monday morning at 8:30, cups of coffee held tight and nervous energy filling both their stomachs.

The wrinkly old man at the counter looked up and smiles as the bell over the door jingles, heralding the two in and Draco raised his hand in a small wave, shooting Harry a jittery look that Harry answered with a smile before turning his attention to the man and greeting him, voice and attitude cheery.

Hand extended out to the man Harry bid him a good morning, earning himself a mostly toothless grin in response along with words of welcome directed to both himself and his companion. 

“Mr. Jim, I just wanted to thank you once more for giving us both a shot, I promise that we won’t let you down.” The old man, Mr. Jim, gave Harry a sharp nod and in his low grumbly voice replied, “Ay lad, I know you won’t, I’ve got a sense for this and the two of you been giving me nothing but good feelings. Now come with me, let me show you around and help you get yourselves all situated now.” 

Mr. Jim glanced at Draco, still a step behind Harry, body turned in a way that only a very small bit of him was showing and smiled a little smile that looked like a contained a secret. He waved a wrinkled hand at them and waved it, bidding them to follow as he started the little tour of the place that both men would be spending a large part of their day at. 

The old dusty books where stacked one on top of each other, some piles leaning over so precariously that Harry was startlingly remind of Flourish & Blotts and the shop itself looked like it was one large gust of wind away from turning into dust ridden avalanche however, despite its desperate need for a spring cleaning, the whole place gave off a feeling of home and comfort and Harry felt himself relax in a way that he hadn’t been since tumbling out of the rift and if the loosening of the hand that was clutching onto the back of his shirt was any indication, Draco felt much the same way.

Mr. Jim led the two through the shop, pointing and directing their attention as he spoke and by the end of the walk through both Harry and Draco were confidant that this was a job that they would have very little trouble doing, it didn’t hurt that Mr. Jim seemed to be a very nice old man who was simply, in his own words, “Getting a bit to rickety to climb those ladders now.”

 

 

 

The walk to the shop in the early morning, in the cool, clear air quickly became one of Harry’s favorite things. He and Draco would stop by a little coffee shop in the morning for breakfast and then the two would take their time as they made their way through the city, talking about everything and nothing and sometimes walking in a silence that was soft and comfortable and one time Harry could have sworn he almost felt the tips of Draco’s fingers sliding onto his open palm but when he had looked Draco was looking the other was, his cheeks pink from the cold and his coffee cup resting against his lips.

It was easier to talk when they were side by side and not face to face and sometimes their conversations would slide into talks about the war and the friends that they missed and what they would have done differently if they could have.

After Draco’s fifth “I’m sorry.” of the morning Harry had pulled the two of them over to a little bench and they had had the first of many heart-to-hearts because, “We all did things that we aren’t proud of but look at you now, you’re a better person than you know, and you are brilliant. If there was a way that you could have gotten out of it and still kept your family safe you would have.”

And Harry had smiled at Draco’s blush and then said, “And I don’t think I ever said, at least not in words, thank you. For lying for me and saving my life, you showed me something that day, when you put yourself in danger for me so, thank you.”

 

So yes, mornings on the way to work where fast becoming Harry’s favorite time of day but work, well, he didn’t hate it, not by any means he just, didn’t quite know what to make of it. It had all started out pretty damn normal, with the usual trapping and happening that one would expect when working at an old book store, dusting, shelving, sorting and such, until that one day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The door jingled, and Harry popped his head out from behind a stack of books that he had been dusting and looked over to his right where Draco was sitting with a disgruntled expression and a rag, wiping down hard covers when they were put onto his ever-growing stack.

Harry poked him in the side and tilted his head, mouthing customer and Draco nodded, turning his attention back to his cleaning duties and the unfairness that was life. Harry stood up, dusting his hands of on his pants and wiping his forehead with his arm, silently praying that his face wasn’t covered in grime and then accepting the fact that it most probably was.

He put on his best, most cheery voice and straightened his spine, walking to the front of the shop in a few quick strides and startling the person who was standing with their back towards him when he very cheerily said, “Good morning, welcome, my name is Harry! Is there something that you needed help finding?”

The man in front of him whipped around, dropping his phone and cursing and both him and Harry went down onto the ground to get it, succeeding only knocking their heads together and accidentally sending the phone shooting across the shop floor as the man’s hand flailed and hit it.

“Oh, holy sh- I mean, oh my gosh, are you ok?” Harry pushed himself up on one knee, his hand out and hovering over the man’s shoulder, not sure what to do. Are you allowed to touch a customer after accidentally physically assaulting them or was that frowned upon? What was he supposed to do here?!

The man’s shoulders where shaking and Harry felt panic shoot through him like lighting as he realized the man was crying. He had made a customer cry. He had made a customer cry on his first day and he was going to lose this job and if he lost this job the other Harry was going to lose his patience and then both he and Draco were going to be living on the street and yah, they were wizards so he could probably magic them something livable but that would get tiring and-

Harry was broken out of his panic induced inner monologue by a hand landing on his shoulder and a voice asking, “Sir, are you alright?” and he saw Draco’s arm come into his line of sight, his hand extended out as he offered the phone back to its owner. Harry looked up as the stranger took it and blinked because while the man did have tears streaming down his face his mouth was split into a grin and he looked about a second from passing out as his shoulders continued to shake with laughter.

Draco squeezed Harry’s shoulder and Harry put his hand on the ground, pushing of his palm and standing up, offering his hand to the man still on the floor once he was steady on his feet. The stranger took it and Harry pulled, bracing against the others weight and then, once he had him on his feet, sending the man a nervous smile.

“So, I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, but I can absolutely say this was the first time I was assaulted.” Harry opened his mouth to apologize again but the man continued talking, a laugh in his voice. “Well, that was a bracing turn of events, thank you Mr...?” He looked questioningly at Draco, “Malfoy,” Draco supplied, “Draco Malfoy, and this is Harry Potter. He uh, he didn’t mean to knock you up, really.”

The man looked to be on the verge of breaking down into another fit of uncontrollable laughter and Harry watched as he took a few deep, steadying breaths before talking again.

“I figured it wasn’t intentional, I’m not mad. My name is Mark buy the way,” he stuck his hand out for a shake, “are you guys working here now? It’s about time that Mr. Jim got some help, I’ve been telling him that he’s going to fall of that ladder one day and break his neck, but you know the old man, he’s stubborn.”

Mark spoke at the speed of a steam roller and Harry wondered when he found time to breath as he continued, drawing Draco into a conversation about the weather, a movie that he wanted to go see and all other manner of things that continued like background noise as he waited for the man to tell them what it was he had come in for.

After watching Draco’s face turning rapidly more panicked as Mark continued, Harry finally took pity on him and interrupted the newest monologue, something about the current music trends, with a pointed, “Was there something you were looking for sir?”

Mark blinked at him once and then said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I have a tendency to ramble. Could you just let Mr. Jim know that I’ll be in the back?” He turned and started to make his way to the stockroom, spinning one more time and stating, “Don’t worry, you might see some more of us going through, Mr. Jim doesn’t mind.” He twiddled his fingers at both slightly shell-shocked men, “It was nice meeting you both!”

Mark disappeared into the back and Harry just looked at Draco, the other raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders, looking just as confused as Harry himself did.

“Should we call Mr. Jim on that, umm, cellaphoney thing?”

“It’s called a cell phone Draco, and yah,” Harry said as he pulled his brand new, pay as you go phone out of his pocket, “I really, really think we should.”

 

 

 

And so, it turned out that Mark was telling the truth and Mr. Jim was well aware of the veritable parade of people coming and going into and out of his stockroom. He had apologized to both the boys about his oversight in forgetting to inform them and had then told them to pay it no mind, hanging up after thanking them for taking the shops security so seriously.

Over the next few days Harry and Draco settled into their new jobs, finding a groove in the daily chores involved in keeping an old bookstore running. They showed up early, earlier than their shift really started so that Harry could help Mr. Jim with the heavy iron gates that covered the windows, the old man insisted that he could do it just fine, but Draco had seen the little smile on his face when Harry had gone ahead and lifted it for him anyway. Harry would take out the trash and bring in any boxes that were waiting to have their contents sorted and shelved and then Draco would empty them and make sure that they were in decent enough condition, before placing them in their new homes.

The days where filled with dusting and discovering, talking and laughing and by the end of the first week Harry could say that was happy. He was free here, free from expectations and history, from the prying eyes of the world as they lauded him for his actions and Harry almost felt guilty for it.

Guilty for being happy when all his friends probably though that he was dead, guilty for being irritated with his world for wanting to show him gratitude for saving them, guilty that while he may be happy here, he was pretty sure Draco hated it, and guilty for using their current circumstance to get closer to Draco in the first place. It wasn’t fare and it wasn’t right, but the thing that Harry felt most guilty for was the way he was scared that if they did get home, Draco would go his separate way, would only look back at this whole journey as a bad memory and never speak to Harry again. After all, Harry reasoned, two men on a deserted island would bond as well.

The flow of people coming and going was never a set amount, some days there would be five while other times the numbers would go into the high twenties and Harry and Draco had discussed the possibility of there being an illegal gambling room hidden somewhere beneath the shop, a theory that they fast discarded when, on one bright sunny morning, a women came in with three small children trailing after her.

The idea then moved onto it being some type of underground railroad situation, but no matter how many times they asked Mr. Jim the old man just smiled and winked, saying “You’ll know when it’s time for you to know, now go on, I pay you to work not gossip.” 

 

 

 

 

The window in the small apartment was open, letting in a cool breeze along with the sound of someone’s radio shouting about sport stats, the smell of dinner cooking was making its way into the living room and Harry prayed that this new attempt by his doppelganger at refining his culinary abilities wouldn’t be the one that put them all in the ground.

Draco was curled into him on the couch, a line of soft, warm, pressed to his side, while the two of them watched whatever the hell the tv felt like showing. 

 

Harry felt Draco’s slim finger walking up and down his arm, sometimes poking and sometimes gliding, pinching bits of his shirt sleeve between his fingers and rolling and Harry shivered at the goosebumps the gentle tickling produced. Suddenly, Draco pulled on Harry’s sleeve, eyes pinched in his patented ‘I’m thinking about something that could be very important, don’t interrupt me’ look that Harry had once ignored, something that he now knew better than to do, so he waited until Draco was ready to share his thoughts as Draco tugged on Harry’s sleeve sporadically and hummed under his breath.

 

When he did finally speak, the words burst out of him louder than was probably intended, “What do you think are the odds, that we, two stranded wizards, would just stumble onto a magic world in an alternate universe that we’ve been looking for, for weeks and had given up on finding.”

And for a second, Harry was confused. And then he just felt incredibly dense because of course, it made perfect sense and his mind flashed back to the way the people leaving the back of the shop where almost never the same as the ones who had entered, and Draco was bouncing with so much energy Harry felt his rattled mind actually start rattling but he didn’t care. They were going home! They whe-

Harry cut his thoughts of and took a deep steadying breath, when he felt the thrumming in his veins calm back to its regular steady stream he turned and places a hand on Draco’s still bouncing knee. Doing his level best to keep his voice steady Harry looked him in the eye, “I think, I think you may be on to something. But I also think that we have to keep our heads about us.”

Harry ignored the eye roll that was sent his way and pushed on, “It’s possible that your right, and it would explain why we were both so drawn to the shop. If it is what we think it is the magic leaking out would have called to us,” Harry squeezed the knee his hand was still resting on, “just like you were explaining to us the other day.”

Draco shifted, moving himself back from where he’d managed to bounce nearly of the couch, and rested his side against the back of the couch, clearing his throat, his eye’s shining, “Harry, I can feel it! This is what we’ve been looking for!” 

And Harry, well, despite his best intentions and desire to remain realistic and not bolster false hope he couldn’t help but smile. It would take man much stronger than him to remain stoic in the face of such honest optimism, and while Harry was many things, he knew deep down in his very soul, that he was not now, nor would he ever be, that strong.

 

 

The used dinner plates safely tucked into the sink for the night, the three men sat gathered in the small living room, curled under their own respective blankets, Draco with his dubiously sweet coffee concoction and both Harrys with their own slightly stronger versions.

They had all, despite the rough introductions, become quite good friends. Even if Harry still did his level best to poke at Draco’s short fuse on the daily, the teasing more fond than spiteful at this point, something that Draco noticed and did his best to reciprocate.

The topic of conversation on this night was a familiar one, the air around it, however, now held a new, slightly electric charge and Harry was a bit blindsided by it. He hadn’t honestly realized how woven into his life his two visitors had become and now that they had a possible clue, a first step that could end with them taking the last one at home, he was filled with a few conflicting emotions. 

On the one hand he was happy for them. They had been trying desperately to find a way home since the moment they had arrived, on the other he was…… trepidatious. And he felt guilty too, it wasn’t his right to not want them to go, this wasn’t their world and they had every reason to want to go home, back to their families and friends, back to their real lives. 

And if he was a good friend, Harry told himself, then he would support them, no matter what, no matter how badly he wanted to grab them both by the shoulders and shake, tell them that they had lives right here and people who cared and would miss them. Because, there were people back where they had come from, people who thought they were dead, people that would be so, so happy when they came home.

So, Harry put on the most genuine smile he could and tuned back into the rapid-fire conversation that was flying back and forth around him and tried to remember that he was a good friend.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Operation “Figure out if the backroom was really a doorway into the wizard world” was not off to the best start.

For one, Mr. Jim had decided that he had had enough of semi-retirement and was now spending most of the work day slumped over the checkout counter snoring into a book. Unfortunately for Harry and Draco, the man was a light sleeper so sneaking past him and rummaging through the storage room was out of the question. If the book stacks in the shop looked a harsh wind away from tumbling into an avalanche the back room was what the place would have looked like after.

There where ancient crumbling books stacked in corners, towering shelves that were contorted and bent with age and weight that would wobble and shake and the barest hint of pressure. Mounds of books where spilled across the floor, some that had tumbled down off of tables when the cardboard boxes that they had been living in had giving out let their belongings out to go crashing onto the floor.

There was no rhyme or reason to the piles, everything tossed together haphazardly to mingle around the room and the first time Draco had seen it he had nearly cried. Who pray tell, who could call themselves a book lover and then leave so many books to wither and crumble on the ground like this? Who could walk past a roof leak letting little drips of water down to land on a first addition hardcover like this and not feel that pain deep inside? The stockroom was a horror show and had Mr. Jim not hired them, he would have been inclined to break in and rescue the poor books at night.

As it stood however, he worked there, and Harry had made him promise not to break into the place, patting his head consolingly when Draco had expressed his distress and if Draco hadn’t already been a tiny bit in love with him he would have cut of an ear or a finger for the sheer amount of condescension the action alone conveyed.

Mr. Jim was very strict with about what he allowed them to do in the stockroom, which was absolutely nothing. They were to walk straight through, in the walk space created by pushing books to the side, to the smaller room of the main stock room, a closet really, where all the doubles where kept. There was to be no touching of anything in the main room and should they break this rule, there would be no second chances.

The new, more work inclined Mr. Jim did not seem to be going anywhere and by the fifth day of trying to get back there both Harry and Draco knew it was time for desperate measures. So, they did something that Harry wasn’t too proud of, something that made Draco’s eyes glint in a fashion that sparked a thrill of fear through Harry’s heart, something he was sure that his mother, had he ever met the woman, would have been so disappointed in him for. 

They drugged him.

 

Draco held out the newly poured cup of tea, steam curling from the mug in a lazy, wafting spiral and was rewarded with a slightly gum filled smile as Mr. Jim took it from him. The old man patted Draco’s arm and brought the cup to his lips and Harry, watching, held his breath.

The potion, brewed by Draco’s expert hand in the apartment the day before, was harmless. A simple sleeping potion with little to no side effects that would knock the old man into a deep sleep for a few hours, waking with nothing but a little grogginess and a more rested body.

Harry still felt terrible however and the pinched look on his face made Draco roll his eyes, coming up beside him and nudged his shoulder, whispering “Oh come on Harry, I know you’ve done some morally dubious things before, you can’t honestly say this ranks that high on list.”

And while Harry could admit that this was perhaps true, he still didn’t have to like it, and he told Draco that much. “It just feels…. Wrong, you know? To be drugging an old ma- oh shit.”

The thud of Mr. Jim’s head hitting the old, hard wooden desk seemed to echo through the room and Harry darted forward, wide eyed in horror, to gently take their bossed head and lift it onto the pillow that Draco held out for him.

Mr. Jim, for his part, didn’t terribly seem to mind the manhandling, light snores steadily filling the space around him and Harry was once more truly struck by how good of a potions brewer Draco was, putting this once together from memory and in a muggle kitchen with ingredients he had scrounged for in gardens and the local grocery store.

He was not however, going to tell Draco this he decided, as he watched the man poke at Mr. Jim’s face with a finger, or at least he wasn’t going to tell him now, Draco’s head was already far too large.

“Hey, we better get a move on, the back room is big and if anyone here is as good a wizard as the ones who spell the entrances back home, it might take us a while to find the door.”

Draco nodded, looking up from his inspecting and nodded in determination. He took a step forward and then spun around, rushing for the door and twisting the lock. It wouldn’t do for any of the daily passer throughs to walk in on them, now all they had to worry about was finding the door and hoping no once surprised them by coming in thought it.

“The doors locked,” Draco whisper yelled, “do you have the phone?”

Harry held up the store phone and waved it, the look on his face urging Draco to get over here already so they could start. He felt the thrill of adrenaline start to seep into his veins and Harry couldn’t deny that he had missed this, the feeling of discovering, of getting to the bottom of a mystery and he smiles at Draco with his lips parted just enough to show a glint of tooth and his eyes sparkling on the low shop light.

Draco hurried his steps along and grabbed at Harry’s arm, the both of them walking forward, and Harry put his hand out and twisted the handle on the door, pushing it open to where it stayed, swinging slightly in place. Harry took the first step forward, Draco a foot behind and the two looked around the mess, diving up the areas for a more strategic search.

“You’ve got you wand, right?” Draco asked, and Harry pulled his from the holster on his arm, giving Draco a look that clearly conveyed how little he cared for this question. He was the bloody savior of the Wizarding World, yes, he had his damn wand.

“Alright, so we do what we discussed last night, I’m”- Harry pointed at himself, - “going to do the ‘point me’ charms and you’re going to work on the lock breaking. We’ll both keep each other informed of our progress and we’ll make sure that we keep the other within sight at all times.”

Draco nodded in agreement and Harry gave him an encouraging smile, “Ok! I know we can do this. Let’s go!”

 

Four hours later and Draco was absolutely sure that they could not do this. He was hot, tired and sweaty, the air in the stock room was dusty and damp and Draco had run into more live spiders that he had even know could exist in one place. Give him nice dried, ready for potions spiders any day, that was fine, Draco didn’t mind them then, but not the living ones. Those ones could move and that was definitely not ok.

Draco flung his hand up and rubbed at his aching for head, smoothing his hair back and when he was done and despairing over just how dirty he was, they both were really. He glanced over at Harry, still hard at work poking things and muttering, his shirt stuck to his back and Draco could see some very nice muscle definition. At last, something good that had come from this very exhausting day.

He felt that little flutter in his stomach grow stronger and he knew he should look away; Harry ogling was a sport best played somewhere cleaner and softer. Somewhere with a bed or a couch that could play into the fantasies that were starting to loop through Draco’s head.

Although….

Here could be fine. They didn’t need a bed, Harry could, he could pick him up, he was strong enough right? Push him against that wall over there, Draco could lock his legs around his waist and run his hand through that messy black hair, maybe pull it a little. Did Harry like that? Like it when the pleasure came with a little pain? Just enough to give it a little edge, a little extra kick? 

Draco liked it, he knew that about himself and his mind played out a dirty, and getting dirtier, slow motion movie starring him and his favorite Chosen One.

They could take their time, but not too much time. That potion was going to wear off and Mr. Jim was going to wake up and wonder where they were, the thought alone made Draco take in a sharp breath. What if Harry had him against that wall, with Draco’s hand in his hair, pulling just a bit, what if Harry leaned forward and kissed him? And Draco kissed back? And then thing would get hotter, harder, and they would start this thing for real. Harry would push himself even closer and Draco could already feel him, his chest and arms, the muscles straining to keep Draco up, keep him close. 

Harry would say something to him, something stupid and sweet and Draco would laugh and tighten his arms around his neck and fall just a little more in love and then Harry’s hand would shift lower and- Draco felt one of his knee’s wobble, Harry’s ha-

“Draco!” 

The full force of Harry’s body hit him from the side and Draco let out a surprised yelp of shock and pain as he landed with his side smashed into the corners of multiple hard cover books, the added weight of a full-grown man landing on top of him not really helping the situation.

The space that Draco had been standing in was now occupied by a man standing on a piece of wood that had dropped down from the ceiling and Draco felt like hitting himself, here they were, looking for a doorway because that’s what was familiar to them. When would it sink in that they were in another world. For fucks sake.

The man in front of them looked vaguely familiar and Draco squinted at him, trying to place him. He poked Harry in the side, ignoring the grumble that produced, and wiggled his sore, bruised body off the books.

The man was looking about himself, bemusement clear on his face when he caught sight of the two and that was what sparked Draco’s memory, and he shot an accusing finger forward and held it pointed at the man, no, at Mark’s face, and scowled.

Mark, to his credit, continued looking entertained and Draco, to his discredit, felt the irritation start to boil over in his chest.

The awkward standoff was broken by Harry clearing his throat and both men turned to look at him, Mark with an eyebrow raised and Draco with a flush rapidly taking over cheeks.

“So….” Harry trailed of, “We have a bit of explaining to do, I think.” Harry spared a glance at the door leading to the front of the shop, an image of a crumpled over Mr. Jim flashing through his mind and he winced, clearing his throat, “How about we take a walk, clear this all up.”

Mark shrugged, dropping a shoulder, a good-natured smirk still clear on his face and Harry let out a little breath he had been holding. 

A hand on Draco shoulder, grip a little tighter than necessary, already prepared to hold on incase Draco had a little extra trouble controlling his emotions, Harry led the three of them to the back door, pushing it open and walking out, Draco still a good step in front of him. Harry took that old saying to heart, keep your friends close, your enemy’s closer and your emotionally turbulent, for lack of a better word, person closest. 

There was a little bench near the mouth of the alley behind the shop and Harry took a seat, strategically placing himself in the middle and tugging Draco down to his side and as far from Mark as he could put him. Mark took his seat, looking the two of them up and down, his mouth quirking to the side.

“So, either you two are the most resilient non-gics or your magic.”

Harry felt a tug as Draco pulled himself out of his tight grip and leaned forward over his lap in a move so violent it almost ended with the both of them landing on the ground and Harry thanked his seeker reflexes once more as he grabbed about Draco waist.

“The hell is a non-gics?! Harry! Is he insulting us?” 

Harry rolled his eyes and shushed him, ignoring the irritated look he got from the random woman who had been passing them by, patting Draco on the head in a patronizing manner and shooting his most charming smile to the lady. She sniffed once but kept walking and Harry decided that that counted as a win.

Mark giggled, the sound high pitched and unexpected and Harry blinked at him, “It means non-magical people, non-gics, that’s all. It’s not an insult. I was just asking because that entrance has been charmed since its creation to discourage non-gics from getting near it, although, every once in a while, one braves the discomfort to investigate.

Mark gave them another look, his head tilting, I’ve been wondering about you two since we first met, you”- he pointed a finger at Harry, -“gave of this, I don’t know how to explain it exactly, it wasn’t power, more like-“- he snapped his fingers, -“an energy, an aura really of strength, comfort, something.”

Harry felt his own cheeks go a little red and he blamed it on the cool breeze that was kicking up around him, he tightened his arms around Draco who was, at this point, nearly completely in his lap and rubbed his hands up and down the other’s arms. Draco was a sweetheart once you got to know him, but he was still a whiny, opinionated stubborn brat and if he let him get a cold, he was never going to hear the end of it.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, sucking in a deep lungful of air and Harry felt a flash of panic take over at what might come out of his mouth, they needed Mark’s help and insulting his entire family line, his intelligence, his girlfriend and whatever else struck Draco’s fancy was not going to get them that.

“We’re wizards,” Harry blurted, “we kind of just, ended up here. We fell through a portal? I guess and ended up in this reality. We’ve been trying to find some of our own kind since then, but we were starting to think we were the only ones. How is everyone so well masked here?”

A little out of breath after, Harry smiled sheepishly at Mark, taking in his wide eyes and growing excitement. 

The bench gave a squeak of protest as Mark began to bounce a little on it and Draco gave a squeak of alarm in return.

“Hold up! You’re from another reality? This is so cool!” 

The arm Harry had around Draco tightened as the blond took in another breath, and he quickly debated whether or not just putting a hand over the other’s mouth to act as a muzzle, but he disregarded the thought as soon as it entered his mind. He enjoyed having possession of all his fingers thanks.

“I’m happy that you’re not freaking out about this, and that your um….” Harry trailed of, his eyebrows nearly jumping into his hairline as Mark shot a hand out and poked him in the cheek.

“I can’t believe your real.”

“Ah, um, why?”

Harry grimaced as Draco licked the palm over his mouth, putting his all into ignoring it and the squirming that accompanied it while waiting on Mark’s answer, one that, when delivered, came with his face split into the widest grin Harry figured he could manage without actually unhinging his jaw.

“For some reason this reality seems to be a beacon for magic folk that have fallen through any type of placement portal, unfortunately, not everyone that comes through is of the most pleasant persuasion and because of that the majority of the magic community has become pretty damn good at cloaking spells.” 

Mark shifted a bit, glancing at Draco still desperately trying to work his way free from Harry’s arms and then at Harry, who was doing his very best to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening and the gleam of mirth in his eyes seemed to expand into a galaxy.

“There are laws,” Mark continued, “that govern the whole magic world, laws that exist to protect us all having to do with cloaking. Honestly, I’m surprised you were able to find your way to the book shop, the cloaking on it is some of the strongest in existence.”

Mark gave Harry another look, his eyes searching and his nose scrunching a little in thought. “He told us you were strong, but I always figured he was just exaggerating, yah know? Cuz he missed you.” Mark shrugged a shoulder, “But it looks like there’s something there to back up the stories.”

Harry jumped as Mark shot up of the bench with a yelp, nearly sending an enraged Draco tumbling face first onto the ground, only being saved by Harry’s fantastic seeker reflexes, if he did say so himself. Which he did, often.

Draco fought the arm winding around his waist, pulling him onto Harry’s lap proper and Mark ignored the heated glaring match with something that looked like practiced ease. Harry was honestly curious about the man’s life, there was something there, he just had to figure out what.

“Guys! Guys. I can’t believe I haven’t called him yet! He’s going to be so existed!”

With half his attention on keeping Draco from escaping and committing murder, something that Harry was fairly certain was illegal no matter the dimension, and half on Mark it took him a minute to relies that Mark had pulled out a phone. A regular muggle cell phone and hey, so this dimension did have some perks. 

His desire to ask just who this mysteries ‘him’ was, was very much at the top of Harry’s to do list and the words where just on the verge of leaving his mouth when he heard the name that slipped from Mark’s mouth and into the air.

Harry felt his body freeze, cold sweeping over him and a pounding started in his heart, quickly setting his nerves on fire and making his brain hurt with a rush of blood that seemed to echo itself to the back of his skull.

Him arms loosened and his grip on Draco slipped open but the other stayed where he was, just turning his torso around so that he could look into Harry’s face, his own paler than normal and his pupils blown wide in shock as well and his heart hurting in a sympathy that, if asked, he would deny.

Harry felt thin, smooth arms wind their way around his neck and a chilled nose press against the side of his face, smooshing its way into place a little over his cheek. There was low murmuring next to his ear, words that where coming out soft and smooth and Harry felt like he should be listening to what they were saying but, but, he couldn’t, because there was already a voice taking up all the space in his head, a voice that had said something and, well. 

Harry knew, he knew he shouldn’t jump to conclusions but, there was this hope, it lived so far down inside him that he hadn’t even known it was there but now that he did, he knew, without doubt, that maybe, just maybe, maybe….

Harry looked up, looked at Mark still bouncing on the balls of his feet, talking animatedly to someone on the phone, felt Draco give him a squeeze, sparking a warmth to bloom somewhere in chest and no, now wasn’t the time to inspect that closer, the time to revile in it, but he would, later because now.

Harry looked up and caught Mark’s eye, waived a hand at him in a ‘come over here’ motion and watched as the man took a step forward, a step closer till he was right in front if the two still on the bench and then Harry reached and grabbed his arm, tight but gentle, and gave his arm a tug, pulling him down and closer.

“Can you please, just, who are you talking to?”

And Mark looked so pleased, so happy and so, so confused when the reaction to the name was Harry pulling in a breath so sharply it sounded like a sob, and he looked at them, at Harry and Draco, at the both of them curled up together on a less than forgiving bench and said,

“I don’t understand, from all the stories he told me I thought you would be happy to see Sirius?” 

And just before proper thought fled Harry’s mind and the tears became all he knew for a bit, he could hear, somewhere, buried in the back if his memory, a voice that sounded just like Hermione’s say something about emotional ranges of a teaspoon.

 

 

 

 

 

The building where crowded, one so close to the other that at some points it looked very much like they were leaning together for support and Harry was vividly reminded of the Burrow and subsequently, the Weasleys and Harry felt the tightness that had been in his chest since landing here pulse. 

This place, the people bustling around him, the kids shouting to each other, this place, it was so familiar and yet, just like everything here, it felt like it was one degree of normal. The hand he had linked with Draco felt a lot like a life line Harry took a moment away from his surroundings to give it a glance. 

The pale coolness of the fingers curled around his own darker ones made little butterflies wake up in his stomach and the small smile that Draco shot him as he caught his eye poked at the pleasant ache in his chest. 

Yes, he missed his friends, his family but, there were things happening here that wouldn’t have been able to happen if he were still at home. This…. Thing, that was coming alive between himself and his travel mate was something that Harry had never really believed possible. Yes, they were friends now, they worked together and made polite small talk but the history between them was so big, so loud that sometimes Harry wondered if it was even possible to try to break free from it.

But here they were, walking through a wizard world, not their own, sure, but they were still surrounded by people who were so much like them, holding hands and heading to go see his long lost, dead, godfather and Harry, Harry was hard pressed to reign in his excitement.

There was this niggling feeling that maybe this was all too good to be true, but Harry pushed it back, shoved it down and ignored it. He still had his wits about him, crying spell aside, he would be cautious, keep Draco next to him, cross his T’s and dot his I’s but, there was nothing stopping him from being optimistic, a world without hope was no world after all.

 

The door groaned in protest as Mark shoved it open and ushered them in, waving his arm so wildly that Harry was half afraid it would just break off. He pulled Draco in after him, their hands still linked, and ignored his mutter of protest as they came properly entered the crowded space.

The shop was, something else. It looked like someone had smashed a joke shop and a book shop together but hadn’t had any care in where those separate parts had ended up, the result coming out to look very much like a jumbled mess and Harry squinted his eyes as he tried to make heads or tails of the set up.

At least it was clean.

“Welcome!” Boomed Mark, “to the wonderful, the amazing, the fantastic, Padfoot’s Playful and Practical Emporium, P.E. for short.”

Harry blinked at him while Draco’s upper lip pushed out into a sneer. Mark just looked at them, an expectant air surrounding him, and Harry felt his forehead crease. Well then, when in Rome and all that.

“Um, thanks man, this place is uh,” there was a book labeled ‘Fifty ways To Make Them Pay’, wrapped in bright pink leather binding directly in front of his face. “This place is great.” He shook the hand that he was sharing with Draco, “Right Draco? Isn’t this place awesome?”

Draco’s answering glare was not terribly encouraging.

“Sirius owns this place, he bought it with the money the counsel set him up with after he fell through. Hey,”- Mark shot them a look, - “We gotta get you to the counsel so that we can get started on your paperwork.”

Despite himself, Harry felt a kind of warmth fill him. No, he didn’t have an extensive history of falling through portals into other dimensions, but he did have a history with people, and the fact that this stranger, this man who didn’t know them from Merlin was going so very out of his way to treat them like friends hit Harry hard.

It could just be how Mark was, in fact, the kindness was without a doubt a pinnacle of the man’s personality but that didn’t detract from the fact that it was so freely offered, and Harry promised himself that he would pay it back.

Also, how many people fell into this place that the people who occupied this world where so readily prepared to deal with it? And did they all stay? Was there really no way to get home?

Draco shifting next to him caught Harry's attention and he put his thought on the backburner, there would be enough time to mule over them later, right now he had more pressing matter to attend to. 

Matters like maybe seeing his dead godfather again.

There was a shuffling sound coming from above followed by a crash and a curse and Harry felt Draco jump as Mark let out a loud bark of laughter followed by a shouted “Try not to kill yourself old man!”

The answering curses where muffled but Harry’s heart leapt into his throat and stayed there as the voice it came from settled in his ears.

He knew that voice. He hadn’t heard it out loud in anything other than his nightmares in years, but he knew it, and Merlin had he missed it.

The cursing grew louder, and Harry felt Draco slip his hand out of his own, pressing himself behind Harry a little and taking hold of the back of his shirt. Despite the fluttering in his chest and the fire of excitement in his veins Harry didn’t miss the action and he spared Draco a glance, a bit of worry etched on his face.

Draco bit out a little smile, looking everywhere but into Harry’s eyes as he said, “Just don’t know if he remembers me and I’m not quite sure I want him to.” 

And that, well that Harry could understand. But Draco was important to him, more than he was able to admit and he was able to admit to a very large amount, so he twisted his body and wrapped his palm over Draco’s shoulder, fingers digging in just a tad.

When Harry was certain he had Draco’s full and undivided attention he leaned his head forward and brought his lips to Draco’s ear, mouth parting around the words as little puffs of breath hit the other’s cheek. 

“One day, me and you are going to sit down and actually talk, really talk, about us and our history and hopefully our future, but for right now just remember that I have never let anything bad happen to you when I could avoid it, and I didn’t particularly care for you back then and now that I do actually give a shit, I’m not about to start.”

The thumping on the stairs where growing closer as Harry pulled back, taking a second to scan Draco’s light pink face and then turning back to where the sound was coming from. Yup, he had game. Everyone who said he didn’t could fuck right off, he had so much damn game.

The fist in his shirt gave a little tug and Harry smiled, this not being alone thing was really pretty nice.

 

 

 

There were many different things that Harry had always wanted to say to his godfather, imagined conversations that would keep him up till the sun had started to rise and peak through his window. Things like, I’m so sorry, I’ve missed you, I never told you just how much you meant to me. Things like, I didn’t want to sell the house you left me, but every damn time I walk in all I could see was the last time I saw your face. 

What he said instead was, “You mother fucking son of a bastard.”

The man at he bottom of the stairs froze, one foot slightly raised I preparation to take a step, mouth hanging a little open and a shocked kind of dazed plastered over his face. 

There was a choking sound from behind him that Harry vaguely registered as Draco trying not to choke a stifled laugh out of his nostril’s and poor Mark had his arms up, mid welcoming wave with his eyebrows trying to join his hairline.

All in all, it wasn’t exactly the heart warming reunion that Harry had been dreaming about but that was just the thing, this situation had always been a dream and now that he was standing there, across the room from a man that was, at this point, no more than a stranger who happened to bear uncanny resemblance to his late godfather Harry was struck the gravity of the moment. 

And hell, in this moment, ten years after watching his godfather fall to his death, Harry realized that he was angry.

He was so, so, so very angry. The amount of which scared him a little, how could someone be this mad without knowing? But then again, you don’t think ill of the dead, of the ones you miss. You mourn them and whish they where back where you could hold them again, you don’t think about how the fact that they left made you feel because it wasn’t their fault.

But here, now. Well. There where some emotions coming to the surface, fighting their way up through Harry’s heart, from places that where so deep he hadn’t known they where there and well, there was no place for them to go but out. 

So out they went.

Somewhere, sometime after, when Harry’s words where coming out raspy and the burning in his chest had simmered down into a tingly warmth Harry registered that someone had their arms wrapped around him and that there was a beard stubbornly poking a rash into his neck and since neither of his previous companions adorned any type of facial hair the powers of systematic detraction lead him to the very possible conclusion that the man who was holding him was actually his godfather.

The force behind the push came with more strength then planned and Sirius looked up at Harry, expression just a line before wounded but with eyes that spoke to an understanding, a look that had Harry turning his head away, of to the side, just long enough for him to gather himself again.

When he felt that maybe now, he could interact without assault, Harry held out his hand, his voice strong and just a little insecure. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, I just”- Harry gestured around with the hand that wasn’t still held out and toward the man on the ground, - “overwhelmed. Which is unfair, I’m sure you are too. I just, you where dead, yah know? And know you, you’re not. It’s…. a lot.”

There was a warmth encircling his hand and Harry felt his fingers close around it, pulling the other up and with Sirius right in front of him like that, with his ridicules hair pulled back and his stupid shining eyes and almost crooked smile and look of absolute joy on his face Harry could feel the truth hit him, like a train crashing right into his heart and destroying the little wall he’d built with an explosion that warmed his whole body.

Harry smiled, a real smile that lit up his eyes and made the little shadows on his face run for cover, he and Sirius just looked at each other, and then, at the same time, like a ruling had been passed, they both burst into laughter.

 

The couch was comfortable, although the colors where enough to make a clown vomit, and the tea in his cup was warm and soothing. The light in the little apartment over the shop was dimmed but Harry had been delighted to see that it came from an actual light bulb so take that original wizard world.

Draco was curled up next to him, feet tucked under his own thighs as he leaned over and into Harry’s personal space. Harry rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue at the wiggling of his godfather’s eyebrow.  
Sirius could fuck right off thank you.

Mark was ten minutes into the most boring story Harry had ever heard and his phone had been going of for at least nine of those minutes and Harry decided that propriety be dammed, he was answering the phone.

Dodging Draco’s lighthearted swat for disturbing his resting spot, Harry looked down at the notifications and blanched, turning and shaking Draco’s shoulder.

“We missed dinner and H is pissed, he made those reservations, remember? He was so excited.”

Draco shot up, narrowly missing smashing the top of his head into Harry’s chin, and grabbed the phone from him, squinting at the texts, each one increasing in profanity.

He looked up, his lip’s pinched and caught Harry’s eye, “We are shit friends.”

“Hang on,” asked Sirius, one hand up in the air like he was sitting in a class, “Who is H and why are you shit friends?”

“H,” began Harry, “is my doppelganger, we’ve been crashing with him since we, um, crash landed here and he’s great!”

“He ok.” Draco interjected but the fond curve of his lips belayed the words. 

Sirius and Mark however, just stared, both of them looking like they had seen a ghost and Harry couldn’t help the cold prickle of unease that had started working its way over the back of his neck and down his back. What in the ever-loving -fuck did they do this time?

“You mean to tell me,” came Sirius’s low voice, “that you’ve been living with a muggle this whole time, and not just any muggle, your doppelganger?” 

“How did you know he’s a muggle.”

“Everyone here is the opposite of what they are back home, so if your magic in our world Harry, then here you’re a muggle.”

As a group, they all ignored Draco’s little shout of “I’m a what now?!”

“OK,” said Harry slowly, “is there some sort of problem with being friends with muggle’s here?” He felt a little panic start again, “Tell me this whole world isn’t like a massive, pure blood, kill the muggles world.”

Sirius snorted, “No, but there is still a Statute of Secrecy, you can’t just be running around sharing that you’re a wizard with random muggles Harry!” 

Harry shrank back on the couch he was sat on, his nose wrinkling and eyebrows drawing in close as the last words left Sirius’s mouth in a shout.

“Um, I’m not running around sharing that I’m a wizard with random muggles, I just shared it with one, specific muggle, we did fall out of thin air and into his living room, it was kinda hard to cover it up. Plus, he’s nice and we had nowhere to go, it was either trust him or nothing, so we decided to trust him.”

Draco tugged a little on Harry’s sleeve and Harry turned to look at him, lowering his head as Draco waved his hand in a ‘come closer’ motion. Draco cupped a hand around Harry’s ear, breath tickling as he spoke, “I know that you happy to see your Godfather, and I’m not trying to be a dick, but we have to go. We can come back, or they could come to us. Maybe dinner tomorrow?”

Harry nodded, “And we could take that as a chance to introduce him to H, might help him chill.”

Harry looked back up, heart clenching again as the truth that Sirius was alive hit home once more and smiled at the men across from him. “Guys, I am so fucking happy that we met, and I can’t wait to see you again, but we have to go, um, we were hoping that you might be free for dinner tomorrow?”

Sirius’s light shout of “definitely!” made Harry’s smile grow.

 

 

 

Dinner that night was far less tense than Harry had feared, and he thanked Merlin once again that his doppelganger was honestly, a pretty chill dude. H had been a little hurt, but he had mostly just been worried about them and after Harry’s explanation, he had been truly ecstatic for him.

It felt nice, this little friend group consisting of the three if them, it felt warm and familiar and Harry looked over at H, Draco curled up on the couch with him, both if them so drawn into the movie that they didn’t even notice that they where cuddling and felt his chest grow warm.

No, he didn’t have a traditional family, but he did have an amazing little patchwork one, people bound together with history and trust and care and Harry took a deep breath, chest loosening and nerves calming. He would be alright.

 

 

The light in the kitchen shut off and Draco tiptoed his was back to the living room, where their makeshift bed was set up, fuck he missed sleeping in a real bed, if they where going to be here for much longer then they would have to see about getting actual beds, this had to stop.

Harry was sleeping and Draco took a moment to just look at him, at the way that the moonlight washed out his color and bathed him in a silvery glow, shadows playing with the planes of his face and Draco knew that if he hadn’t already been gone for the idiot then this could have been a moment that he would have started falling.

Draco’s eyes flicked back and forth, looking from Harry’s side of the pull-out couch to his own, the halves kept apart by a little pillow divider. A moment of weakness had Draco climbing over the line and carefully wiggling his way over to Harry, holding in a cheer when an arm wound its way around his waist on reflex and pulled him in. Draco smiled into the pillow, this was nice, Harry was warm against him and the feeling of safety that surrounded him was absolutely worth the amount of lying he would have to do explain this in the morning. 

 

 

The sound of a pot crashing to the ground quickly followed by a hushed stream of cursing brought Harry out of his dreams and he groaned low in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to burrow deeper into the warmth of his blanket. He pulled his pillow tighter, annoyed with how it was poking him and startled when his pillow wiggled and let out a huff.

 

The fuck?! Since when where pillows sentient? Harry looked down and startled, his eyes taking in the wave of blond hair in front of him and it took longer than he was comfortable admitting to relies that his pillow was, in fact, non-other than Draco Malfoy.

Now, Harry always liked to consider himself a pretty chill guy, he was cool, collected and, most importantly, incredibly suave which was why he would deny the undignified squawk that left him upon the realization that he was cuddling The Draco Malfoy.

Draco let out another puff of air and then started wiggling, turning himself until he was nose to nose with his bed mate, giving him a small, shy smile. 

Even with the puffy face that came with waking up after a good night’s sleep, Harry thought that Draco was still the most stunning thing he has ever seen, and he couldn’t help but return the smile. 

There was another loud crash from the kitchen followed by another hushed string of cursing and Harry smiled, shouting “It’s fine H, we’re up already.” There was a pause and then the cursing in the kitchen continued, getting louder in volume and making Draco laugh.

And maybe it was the fact that he had just woken up and the world just seemed softer, or maybe it was that for the first time in his life Draco felt relaxed and excepted or maybe it was just the fact that Harry was smiling at him, his eyes a little unfocused and his forehead wrinkled as he tried to look at him without his glasses but whatever it was, a wash of bravery went through Draco and before he knew it he was leaning forward.

His voice was soft, but his words came out strong as he said, “Hey Potter, you wanna go on a date?” 

 

 

 

The door to the shop slammed shut and Draco cursed, standing up to go see who had walked into the shop and whether or not they could be left to their own devices. He put the book he had been reading down, a tissue stuck between the pages and braced himself for the possibility that another wandering tourist was about to drive him insane.

The front of the shop was much brighter, less dusty and crowded than it had been when he and Harry had first come, three years ago but it was still a used book store and there was only so dust bunny free it could be, nevertheless, Draco took great pride in the state of the shop and smiled a little as he made his way to the front.

The smell of fresh coffee hit his nose, and someone called his name, and Draco hurried his steps. He grinned as he rounded the corner, taking in the sight of a slightly haggard looking Harry and a very enthusiastic looking Mark waiting for him at the front of the shop.

Harry perked up when he caught sight of him, holding out his hand, a large cup of coffee clutched in his hand and Draco came over to take it, leaning forward to give him a little kiss in thanks. The soft look on Harry’s face got even fonder and Draco’s heart thumped.

Mark, having decided that he had had enough broke the moment by bouncing on his toes, “Guess who just got accepted into the Ministry’s Unspeakable training program?”

“Holy shit! I knew you could do it!” The kiss was a little longer and a lot louder this time and Draco heard Mark gag in the background, but he could go fuck himself, thank you.

Draco slid his hand up, his finger combing through his boyfriend’s hair and he pushed himself up till he was standing on his tiptoes. “I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

A warm arm wrapped around Draco’s waist, pulling him closer. “I love you and I love the life we’ve built, and have I ever properly thanked you for shoving me through the veil?”

Harry yelped as Draco pushed him away, indignantly insisting that “Hey, I told you that that was a mistake!” But he was still smiling, and still so, so fucking happy that he felt like his heart was going to burn its way out of his chest.

His little apartment with Draco, his new job, this world where he was just Harry and Draco was just Draco and they where no ones savior or devil and he got to chase his dreams enjoy every damn minute he could with this little family that he had found was more than anything he thought he would ever get and while he did miss he friends, the people he had grown up with, the people he had fought a war with he was free here. Free to be exactly who he was, free to be happy and in love. One day he would figure out the mirror, he would find a way to send a message that they where ok, they where alive back to their friends.

And as he waited for Draco to close the shop so they could all get on their way to dinner at some new place that H was dying to share with them, listing to Mark complain that Sirius wouldn’t let him take off for his birthday because Mark had refused to fill in for him on his and watching as the setting sun cast the room in a warm glow, Harry knew, he had found his home.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, writing this was an experience and it also took way longer than anticipated. The plot changed like five times and I forgot the names of my O.C.'s more times than I can count. Either way, I love this fic, I'm proud if it and I'm also sick of looking at it so the quality of grammar and spell check is spotty at best, if you come across anything that drives you nuts tell me so I can fix it. If you feel like letting me know if you enjoyed this story then please do that as well, thanks for reading everyone!


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